Tearing as a plough
Into fragile earth crust,
Tearing open the skin of Terra.
Which hand scatters seeds for spring?
As winter heralds
In tears that fall as rain.
Driving the ghost ship
Deeper into the night,
Tracing the web of stars
As ancient track-ways in the blood.
Memory holding within:
Between the branches
Green patchwork of grass and woods.
To follow this blog: the 'Follow by E-mail' facility is now operating. Don't miss a beat and sign in.